My Work Tarting Up Other Places

Friday, December 9, 2011

Well, it's Friday, the day I'm supposed to pick the winner of the Bad Sex Contest (prize: fabulous vibrating panties courtesy of Good Vibrations) and--crap!--I just can't decide. Instead, I'm gonna shirk my duties empower the readers by letting you decide. That's right, you try to pick one of them, leaving the rest of the non-winning entries to shuffle away from the blog, sobbing and vibrating panty-less. Go ahead. I fucking dare you.

I've narrowed them down to five so this wouldn't be a 12,000 word post, but I've left out some really good ones, so you're welcome to go back to the original post and vote for someone I didn't include. You can vote in the comment section or via email. The tyranny of the majority will rule. You can rig the game--just like corporate America!--by cheating and having your friends and family vote for your entry. The drawback to this approach, of course, is admitting to friends and family the exact nature of your Bad Sex. I guess it all depends on how much you want those panties now, doesn't it?

1. I like this one by Cagey-C, not because the sex is so bad, really (it could've happened to anyone) but because it gives me a peek into the mindset of someone so completely different than me--a Conservative Evangelical dude having his first sex ever with his brand new wife. Also, the vibrating panties would be a sort of belated payback to said wife. Behold:

I went through a period in my teens and early twenties where I attempted (rather successfully) to be a theologically conservative, evangelical Christian. As such, I made it all the way until I got married (thankfully, at 23--but still, 23!) before having sex for the first time. Thus, the indelible memory of our wedding night. A summer evening, a lakeside cabin in Maine. A 23-year-old super excited about the first honest-to-God sex he was about to have. That super excited 23-year-olds bizarre insistence on sharing a pre-undressing prayer, because, you know, there's nothing quite as romantic as asking Jesus to watch your very first time. The couple tenderly undresses each other, kisses, allows hands to roam. Lies down on the bed in--what else?--the missionary position. I couldn't believe the sensation as I entered, like nothing my hand had ever managed before. I managed approximately two thrusts before shuddering, exploding, collapsing. In my endorphin haze, I looked into her eyes, smiled, and said, 'So that's what all the hype is about.' Only to realize that she was crying, and that it all actually sucked.

2. Can't keep anything to myself inspired Bad Sex Week in the first place with this story. Also I love her faith in the "toughness" of her vag, "NOT tough like beef jerky is tough," she hastens to add, lest we get the wrong idea:

I actually thought these seemed like fun. Especially after the super cheesy commercials. "Burning and freezing sensations in my vagina?! Sign me up!" I was reluctant after reading reviews from people who said they were too fiery and too icy, but my curiosity got the better of me. And faith in the toughness of my vagina. (What can't she do?!)

Lo and behold, my vagina is in fact too tough (and by tough I mean insensitive, NOT tough like beef jerky is tough). I didn't feel a thing. My partner on the other hand had to run to the bathroom to wash his fiery-icy genitals in the sink.

I felt kind of bad. And yet, I'm still kind of jealous I didn't get to feel ANYTHING.

3. Gia also wrote about Fire and Ice condoms, but I so love how she shares her panicky thought process upon feeling the burn: "Does Boyfriend have an STD? Is he giving it to me right now?"

Re: Fire and Ice condoms. Well. Boyfriend bought some variety pack of trojan condoms, and we never really paid attention to which ones we used because they all pretty much felt the same. So when he grabbed a fire and ice one, I had no idea. And then it got kinda burny down there. Not like, painful burny. Just like me thinking "Something's wrong, this doesn't feel normal"and "Why would it be burny? Razor burn?" and "Does Boyfriend have an std? Is he giving it to me right now? What's happening?!?" Needless to say, I lost focus. Boyfriend did not. But later, when we were cuddling, he was like "So...did that feel kinda weird to you?" and only then did we realize we used those condoms. So, that's my story about that.

4. Jenerosity wrote of a truly epic queef, which deserves something, doesn't it? Plus extra points for giving her story a title.

Bad sex, entitled "Queef for a day"

It started out as any other raucous romp. He was definitely an overzealous partner and I didn't mind, at first. Let's just say he had a way with his hands; just would.not.stop. with the fingers. Eventually, I had to switch things up so I roll over on all fours for some good old-fashioned humping. And it began...the air deposited by overzealous fingers had.to.go.somewhere....would.not.stop!! Thankfully, I was in the position where no facial expressions had to be read and my utter embarrassment could be hidden. I know, I know, a tiny little queef happens to the best of us but OMG it just went on and on!

This is one of those memories I wish I could erase forever. Perhaps some fun times with the no-insertion-required panty buzzer would help me forget. :D

5. And then there's this by Jen C. which is just so fucking smart and well-written, and it even has a moral, like a Bad Sex Aesop's Fable:

There's such a spectrum of bad sex. You can have bad sex with someone you normally have incredibly hot, oh-God-that-was-GREAT sex with. You can have bad sex that's good at first, then turns bad. Or sex that seems pretty damn fine until you're done with it and then you're like, "Oh. Actually, that sucked."

I've experienced all of these, but when I read your post, the bad sex memory that first came (CAME!) to mind was a classic third-date scenario that was in retrospect a sign of more cringe-worthy awful sex to come (COME!).

I met this guy in an AOL chat room, back in the days when people did such things. We hit it off online, then over the phone, and when we met in person, we still hit it off despite the fact that I was in no way attracted to him. Which should always be a sign, yes? But I was lonely and liked him, and deluded myself with that "Maybe I could GROW into hotness for him" notion.

After two fun movie outings, he took me to The Inn of the Seventh Ray in L.A.'s Topanga Canyon for dinner, which is really romantic if you can get past the New Age bullshit factor. Lots of wine combined with appreciation for an expensive meal to make him 8% more attractive to me on the drive home. We ended up at his place. I still have this vision of him naked, putting on the condom, and me looking up at the ceiling because, OMG, he had a weird body and I couldn't believe I was about to screw it but, you know. The wine.

Some foreplay, yada yada. Penetration. Ho hum. I guess I wasn't NOT enjoying it. I was beginning to psyche myself into the experience using one of my tried-and-true fantasy scenarios (I'm the teenage babysitter and he's the single dad! Yes! Take me!) when suddenly, it stopped. He stopped. He didn't say anything, didn't make so much as a grunt. Pulled out, limp.

I thought, okay. That's fine. We've been drinking and he's probably nervous. Whatever. I don't want to make him feel bad with one of the cliche comments you make at a time like that. So I got up to use the bathroom and when I sat on the toilet, a sad little bit of something dripped out of me.

Come. He actually came, and I didn't even know it! How can a guy come without making a peep? I felt this overwhelming rush of horror and regret and just plain yuckiness.

I don't remember much about what happened after, but I will admit that I continued to see this person. We enjoyed each other's company and he had money and took me to fancy places and okay, I was shallow. Eventually, that did not make up for the fact that his cock tasted horrible and he always came too quickly. (When my husband and I talk about my sexual past, we refer to him as Premature Ejaculation Guy -- not to be confused with Curved Penis Guy and Friends With Benefits Guy.)

The moral of my Bad Sex story is that sometimes, you need to trust your instincts. If you're not attracted to someone, that could be your body sending a message that THIS IS NOT YOUR MATE. THIS PERSON DOES NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH A NAKED BODY IN ITS BED. RUN AWAY!

It's not true that sex is like pizza -- "even when it's bad, it's good." I'll take bad pizza over bad sex any day, because you can't just puke up bad sex and take a Zantac. It haunts you for years, and only if you're lucky can you turn it into a funny story on someone's awesome blog.

I won't vote but my husband just read my story and asked, "Wait a minute? If he had a condom on, how could something have leaked out of you?" And this is an excellent question, because I clearly remember both. Hmmm. It could be that he trouble staying hard so I told him to take off the condom, since I was on the pill and he wasn't exactly a high STD risk. Or it could just be further evidence of a truly effed-up effing. (Walking away puzzled, wishing I'd kept a bad sex journal of such details...)

I've got to vote for Jenerosity, for two reasons: 1) boy have I been there, and no amount of butt-clenching will make it stop; and 2) the title "Queef for a Day" has gone directly into my personal lexicon as one of the funniest things I've ever seen in print.

Aw I'm so honored not only to be a nominee, but to have inspired the whole week of bad sex! Too bad I didn't know what I writing for when I wrote that comment. I'd also like to vote for myself because I really want the panties, but I honestly don't think my story deserves it :p It was just a casual comment about my first experience with these condoms and I was trying to be witty about it. All of the other stories are SO good though! I love the pre-sex prayer, the never ending queef, and Jen C's awesome writing. I also got a kick out of "pull my BALL SKIN back!"Can I just vote multiple times? One for me because I want panties. Jen C gets my vote for best writing. I think best content goes to Jenerosity, but I was left wanting more. I wanted to know what happened! Cagey C's is a close second for content. Ah I don't know what to base my vote on! I give up. I wrote all of this and only came to the conclusion that I can't come to a conclusion. Make what you will with it.

I think Jen C's vagina was crying tears of mirth at the awfulness. I also vote for her story, having had a similar experience myself. When a partner says "don't touch my back, it's really zitty" it is really a passion killer, especially for the imaginative person...

And there's another vote in for Jen C. from Sharon Heath who wrotes: "Okay, my cats are staring up at me like I'm crazy, laughing hysterically (well, okay, maniacally, but for very good reason) at the computer. Don't even want to think of what kind of dreams these stories are going to stimulate."

Thanks Dicky! And you KNOW I love it when you spell favourite with a u. If anyone wants to go and check out Dicky, a self-described "over-anxious, melancholy miserablist," go to http://www.dickycarter.com/.

Also, please add one more vote from Cagey-C from the In Bed With Married Women Minister of Science who writes, "That is tough, but I gotta go with the first one, because that bad sex was mutual. That's my scientic opinion, so it should get an asterisk next to it."

As you know, we loves our science around here so consider this asterisk all yours MoS: *

oh dear this is going to be an innuendo laden response so take it as it cu,i mean comes.First up (UP!), I came (yeah yeah, came, cum, tomato, tomahto) here via dicky (hehe) as he is one of the funniest, so do check his blog out.Now where was I? Oh yeah..funny as all fuck and I can see myself putting this one up as one of my favourite and most colourful posts of the week.Bad sex....we've all seen it and screamed at it whether we're instigators or victims, but hey at least ONE person had fun you hope...I'll be back :)

About Me

I write In Bed With Married Women, a blog about sex in all its boring, strange, funny, smokin' hot glory. My work has also appeared in Salon, AlterNet, Cosmopolitan, Rolling Stone, Entertainment Weekly, Jezebel, Mad, Games and the Los Angeles Times. I look grumpy in all pictures whether grumpy or just kinda neutral.